


An Unhealthy Obsession

by A_Bunn_Tale



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:26:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Bunn_Tale/pseuds/A_Bunn_Tale
Summary: i'm just doing my part in converting the world to the nancy/ghost face ship. das all.
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Nancy Wheeler, Frank Morrison/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. Scarlet

Nancy supposes it had started out as an obsession that had eventually gone sour, but even that would be heavily disputed based on who was asked. Opinions skewered facts, and once the facts were grossly misrepresented, the argument was usually lost. There was no use debating something when someone chose not to listen. It was easier to turn your attention elsewhere and focus on something that didn’t aggravate you, but there were times when someone’s stubborn insistence won out, despite efforts to not engage. There wasn’t exactly anywhere she could go to escape him either. He stalked her in the Trials, and he somehow managed to find her outside of the Trials. Their game of perpetual cat and mouse that he forced her into became more invasive and far more tense than actually being hunted down and slaughtered like swine. At least when she was called forth by the Entity, she knew that there was an inevitable end in the near future. Sometimes she escaped with her life, forced to nurse the wounds that seemed to hurt more than the last, and sometimes she would sit upright suddenly, her hand shooting to her shoulder as the pain from the hook throbbed throughout her entire body as she ‘respawned’. Dying never got easier, and she exhales slowly, her hands subconsciously moving to rub up and down her arms. Her skin still pricks at the gentle stimulation despite the surrounding air being warm, and Nancy shifts carefully, looking behind her to make sure she didn’t disturb Steve. He was a heavy sleeper and thankfully he wasn’t clinging to her like he usually did, which would make sneaking out easier to do.

The blankets are peeled slowly off her form and she shifts to her knees as she crawls to the closed flap. Pulling at the zipper, she opens the flimsy material and immediately shivers. A passing glance over her shoulder confirms that Steve is still asleep, despite the fact that he groaned and rolled, pulling the blankets over him. Her lips quirk upwards as she forces herself to squash the urge to brush her fingers through his hair. Ever since the Entity had pulled them from Hawkins, the rather awkward friendship they had sported had turned into a solid foundation for mutually shared trauma. She wouldn’t say that she had any sort of romantic feelings for him, but he was the only sense of familiarity that she had left. It wasn’t that Nancy wasn’t friends with the rest of the survivors, it was just that she and Steve had a history together and that made opening up to him about how she felt easier. Once she steps out of the tent, she reaches back inside and feels around the floor for a sweater. From the difference in material, Nancy was able to discern that she had grabbed her tentmate’s sweater instead of hers, and she pauses for a moment, tilting her head to the side as she crouches down. _He_ wouldn’t like it if she showed up in _Steve’s_ clothes…

Snatching it off the ground along with her shoes, Nancy tugs the zipper shut and stands up, sliding her feet into the slip-on sneakers, and pulling the forest green fabric over her head. One look towards the treeline told her that the Fog was thin tonight, so she would be able to forgo a flashlight, as the illumination of the moon would be enough for her to see where she was going. Another quick look is thrown in the direction of the ever-burning campfire, and she is pleased to note that there is no one sitting around it. It seemed that everything was going smoothly for once, and a tingle of anticipation raced up her spine and Nancy finds herself increasingly thankful that she had badgered Nea into teaching her how to be light on her feet. It allowed her to make her way towards the forest without alerting anyone to what she was up to; the less the other survivors knew, the better.

\--

The lack of a heartbeat made initially finding him difficult. He blended in with the shadows that he skulked around in, with no effort on his part. When she did manage to catch a glimpse of him, it was almost always because he wanted her to, and that made Nancy grit her teeth, blue eyes moving slowly over the open clearing where she had found his note pinned to a tree. It was one of the ways that he let her know he wanted to see her, and while she grappled with the morality of it, Nancy always went. Not only was it just easier to appease him, but part of her had grown accustomed to his possessive advances, and there were even times when she sought them out herself. There was almost something endearing about the little gifts he would leave around the treelines for her, or how his hands would linger around her thighs as he hoisted her over his shoulder… The keyword there was almost. He claimed his brutality in the Trials was to appease the Entity, but she knew better. He enjoyed watching her suffer at his hand and his hand alone, and every time they crossed each other on the playing field… There were some scars that he continued to carve into her skin to remind her just who she belonged to. They would likely remain long after he got bored with her, but Nancy pushes that thought out of her head immediately. She didn’t need that particular stark realization ruining her excursion tonight, and with her mouth squeezed in a determined line, her attention returns to the futile search that she had momentarily forgotten about. Maybe tonight would be the night she spotted him before she was meant to see him…

“If we were in a Trial, I would have slid my knife into your back by now.” A suave voice drawls out from above her, and Nancy curses quietly and cranks her head upwards only to see a pair of feet dangling from a branch. He was kicking them back and forth like an excited child, and she scowls when that stupid mask of his pops out from behind his knees. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, he offers her a lazy wave as a way of greeting. Crossing her hands over her chest, she huffs and moves out from under the branch to allow him room to jump down.

“If we were in a Trial, I wouldn’t be willingly seeking you out either.” she retorts dryly, eyes rolling upwards at the confidence dripping from his tone. Everything he did was meticulously planned, and he very rarely made mistakes.

“Aww come on Nance, what’s with the immediate hostilities tonight? Was it because I didn’t leave you a gift with my note?”

The thud of his boots against the ground was enough to set her on edge, and Nancy instinctively shifted to the front of her feet in preparation to run. He knows this and his fingers circle around her wrist and she is tugged backwards roughly before she can make any sudden movements. A grunt is pulled from her as her back hits his torso, which is then accompanied by a startled squeak when gloved digits wrap cooly around the length of her throat, successfully holding her against him. The plastic of his mask rubs uncomfortably against the side of her neck as he releases his grip on her wrist and slides his arm around her waist instead. She can feel her heart clench in her chest when the hand around her throat tightens slowly, a careful pressure being divided evenly across her pulse. The lack of control that came with their interactions was intoxicating as she was used to being in charge more often than not.

“I never took you for the material type.” His tone is teasing, but Nancy is quick to note that his grip tightened around her waist once his fingers slid underneath the fabric of Steve’s sweater. He digs roughly into her hip bones and the hand on her throat pulls her head back, so her gaze is forced upwards. “Though I am curious… Who’s sweater is this?”

Barely able to contain her immature glee at his annoyance, Nancy chuckles quietly at his question. It certainly didn’t take him long to realize that she was wearing someone else’s clothes, and she swallows thickly, the motion strained against his grip.

“It’s Steve’s,” Her response is whispered and her next inhale is shaky; whether it be from fear or arousal, or a delicious mix of both, she isn’t sure. The deflation of his chest as he exhales causes her to further lean into him, and she can feel the ragged breath he takes reverberate through his mask against her neck. Her lips part in a silent gasp when the tips of his fingers scrape against the underside of her jaw as his grip teeters on the edge of violent. He wasn’t just staking his claim over her anymore; he was also reminding her that she was completely at his mercy.

“Are you fucking him?” The contempt he feels is obvious, and the hand that had been bruising her hips move further up her body and cause the sweater to scrunch up as her stomach is slowly exposed to the night air. Her skin pricks instantly as she shudders from the change in temperature. His touch ghosts under her breasts, the tips of his fingers grazing over her nipples for only a moment before returning to her waist. Biting the inside of her cheek, Nancy takes a moment to think about what she was going to say next. Lying was most certainly out of the question, but if she was blunt and straight to the point, she would miss out on intentionally bothering him. “Would it matter? I’m here now.”

She decided to dance around the question instead.

The guttural sound that came from him strikes the perfect chord that she has come to expect from him. The hold he had on her throat lessens gradually, but Nancy knows better than to be lulled into a false sense of security, and her suspicions are confirmed instantly when she feels his fingers wrap around the base of her ponytail and continue to pull her head back. Each time she swallowed, she could feel the saliva trail down her throat as her oesophagus is forcibly stretched. Her hands flew up to her head as she grabbed him, her fingers attempting to slide under his to get him to let go. Nancy knew it wasn’t going to happen, but she couldn’t just stand there and not blatantly challenge their dynamics, especially when she had a general idea of what he intended to do to her. No encounter was ever quite the same, as he fancied himself a man of great creativity, and Nancy would have to agree. There was never a shortage of new ways he could string together to hurt her friends, and it was because of his incessant badgering that she had gotten better at paying attention to her surroundings and started thinking like a killer. If she wanted to avoid him, she had to outsmart him and to outsmart him, she had to step into his shoes: what would a person do to avoid being caught by someone who was obsessed with you? A rough tug to her hair is pulling her out of her thoughts, and Nancy coughs slightly and her fingers tighten around his.

“Let go.” she spits out. “Forcing me to do things won’t get you anywhere.”

A dark chuckle is followed by the hand on her hips to nudge past the band of her pants, boldly resting over her pubic bone. His fingers were long enough that if he just reached a little further…

“I believe I asked you a question, didn’t I, Nance?” Another sharp tug and she grinds her teeth to hold back the noise of protest that he was trying to work out of her and Nancy is determined to not give him what he wants, at least not yet. There wasn’t much she could hold over him, but the unfiltered attraction that he felt towards her was a huge trump card in her favour. From gentle prodding on the few nights she spent in his arms, she had discerned that she was the first survivor he had taken such a keen interest in. With his superiority complex and insanely high standards, Nancy found herself believing his words, and she uses this to solidify her stance as she pushes back against his ‘authority’. She was nearing the line that she enjoyed toeing far quicker than she had expected, however. A pity, really.

“You can’t always fuck me when I need to be fucked.” Her words are strained and she struggles to get them out. Another deep inhale, and Nancy is thankful that he wasn’t using his voice modulator as it would make his breathing sound raspy and inhuman.

“ _Is. That. So?_ ” Each word was carefully enunciated, spoken slowly to ensure that she knew exactly what she was getting herself into.

Subconsciously, she clenches her thighs together when his fingers dip lower into her pants, the front of his palm encompassing her sex completely. The implication was enough to drive her wild, and she arches her back, forcing her ass to press flush against him and Nancy is pleased to feel that despite her needling behaviour, he was still rock hard. She rolls her hips slowly, brows furrowed upwards as the hold he has on her hair tightens again, the pinpricks of pain darting around the base of her scalp. She was pushing her luck but finds that she doesn’t want to stop. A sudden pang of understanding fills her as she realizes just why he had a habit of consistently pushing her buttons: it was fun…

Dangerous, but fun.

“That’s not your fault though. You can’t control when we get to see each other.” Maybe not fully, but all it took was a coy glance in her direction and she knew what he was asking her to do later, and she would go running. “The nights get so long…” Not necessarily untrue, but the context behind her statement didn’t /exactly/ correlate with the given situation, but he didn’t need to know that, now did he? No, Nancy wanted to work him up, to frustrate him and force him to seek the same kind of relief with her that she sought with him; she wanted to attempt to even the playing field, even if it was just for a moment. It was such a tantalizing concept that she can feel her inhibitions literally slipping away, and the raw lust that she kept carefully locked up, rears its head, and her teeth find the flesh of her bottom lip as she stifled a groan. The more she pushed back, the worse the consequences would be, but even that wasn’t enough to deter her from her actions. She was in too deep, and for once, Nancy felt no shame about it. The fingers in her hair pull at the elastic holding brown locks firmly in place, freeing them from their confines. The strands falling to frame her face, he gently runs his hand down her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips, where it rests for a moment. Her mouth parts automatically which allows the tip of his finger to dance over the front of her tongue, but he doesn’t acknowledge her open invitation, instead choosing to actively ignore it. Nancy can’t blame him, but it irritates her nonetheless and she rocks her hips in a circular motion, creating hot friction that she knows affects him too. He inhales and his hand slides fully between her legs, hooking his fingers under the crotch of her panties and pulling the fabric to the side. No time is wasted before the heated leather that covers his palm is pressed flush against her cunt, and he’s grinding the intercarpal bones of his hand roughly at her clit, and this time, a desperate noise of approval is drawn from her.

Nancy can practically see his mouth curling upwards as he coaxes her into unravelling and she finds herself suddenly overcome with the desire to see his face, or at the very least, to feel his lips on her body. There had been only one time when she had seen him without his mask on, and the boyish charm that he radiated had captivated her instantly. Chocolate brown optics had bore into her intently, greedily taking in her reaction, but there was a hint of hesitation that he had tried to hide. It reminded Nancy that despite his insistence that he was entirely a monster, there was still a touch of humanity in there. It was small, but it was enough to reassure her that what she was doing wasn’t completely wrong; that in the end, they were just two people doing what they had to do to survive… Or so she was telling herself.

“Take off the mask.” she keens lowly, rutting her hips against his hand. “Let me see you.” The chances of him complying with her request were slim, but he’s never once complained about her vocalizing her demands and his fingers thread through her hair, kneading at her scalp gently, which is a stark contrast to less than family-friendly touching that was happening below the waist. With great trepidation Nancy grabs at his wrist, tugging his hand out from her pants. The loss of touch serves to agitate her, but the girl wastes no time in turning around and pushing against his shoulders, forcing him backwards until he’s pressed up against the base of the tree. A hand rests on his hips to steady him, and the other is pulling brazenly at the bottom of his mask, which causes him to laugh quietly.

“Impatient much?” he asks, lazily cocking his head to the side to allow room for her mouth to pepper kisses along his neck. If she thought she could distract him from the fact that she was wearing _Steve’s_ sweater, then she had another thing coming for her. Her teeth scrape at his Adam’s Apple and as she inches the mask slowly up his head and by the time her inquisitive lips reach the underside of his jaw, he grabs her wrist, roughly twisting her arm and pinning it against the small of her back. Nancy lets out an indignant protest but there isn’t much she can do to stop him; he always had the physical advantage over her, even without the Entity’s interference. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he pushes backwards on her knuckles, the tips of his digits pressing along the bone. With enough pressure, he could break her hand and the sharp pain that races up her arm only attests to his unspoken threat. “I don’t much like you not answering me. I’m in a good mood too, so I suggest you don’t go ruining that.”

“Are you going to tell me how to preserve that good mood of yours or should I just keep going until you give me what I want?” she asks, pausing her assault on his neck to pull her head back and cock a brow at him.

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Nancy?”

“No? Then you need to stop trying to have a conversation with me and take off that fucking mask.” Her words are growled out but she knows better than to make another attempt to remove it.

“Y’know, if you keep this lecherous behaviour up, I am going to think that you aren’t actually here for my company, but for my dick, and that wounds me because I am here for your wonderful personality _and_ your pristine pussy.” Nancy laughs exasperatedly, her hand leaving his waist to pinch the bridge of her nose. His behaviour was a retaliation to hers, and even with this thought seared into her mind she can’t fight off the smirk that was spreading over her face. He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud, but her resistance was exciting him, and his body was actively betraying him. His hips bucked into her hand when she reached between them and palmed the outline of his cock, which was straining against his pants and her teeth caught the bottom of his mask, and she pulled on it teasingly. She didn’t tug it enough to actually uncover any part of his face, as he was taller than her, but Nancy buries her head into the crook of his neck and inhales deeply. She can’t quite pinpoint the scent that was so uniquely him (there were faint wafts of blood mixed in there), but it kept her up at night occasionally, and she had taken to pressing herself against Steve and stuffing her face into his arm to try and avoid thinking about her serial killer paramour at inopportune times.

“I can count the number of times that we’ve had an actual conversation on a single hand,” she remarks dryly, running her thumb up and down the length of his dick. With the coarse fabric preventing skin on skin contact, Nancy has to make do with the ‘hand’ she had been dealt. While incredibly impatient, she knew she could only get away with so much before he had enough, and biding her time and giving him her full attention was likely the best course of action to get her what she wanted. “But I’ve had enough talk for tonight and I didn’t come out here only for you to needlessly tease me. Now, will you please take off that mask?”

He hums low in his throat, contemplating her request. Having to decide if the pros outweigh the cons in the current situation were something of a nuisance, and it wasn’t made any easier by the smaller hand doing its best to keep his attention, though, in fairness, she somehow had the touch of a porn star. Either she was born in the wrong era, or Miss Wheeler had more experience than she had been letting on, but he suspects it's a bit of both. Either way, he is content to allow the small bouts of pleasure jolt through his body. What he hadn’t been prepared for, however, was to completely momentarily freeze with arousal when she spoke two words:

“Danny, please…”

She was reaching for some low hanging fruit, but her technique was successful nonetheless, and Nancy is pleased to see that it gets her the exact reaction she was hoping for. Danny pulls on the cuffs of Steve’s sweater, and she raises her arms eagerly to assist him. With the sweater no longer there to protect her torso, Nancy is painstakingly aware of just how chilly the night air was. The flimsy tank top hangs loosely on her shoulders and she makes no attempt to fix the strap that slips down her arm. She can feel his gaze trail down to her chest and she inhales sharply in preparation of his touch… Which doesn’t happen. Instead, she is met with the sound of fabric being ripped apart and is momentarily too surprised to say anything. There had been no reason to destroy that sweater, and by the time she composes herself enough to say something, Danny is already offering her an explanation for his actions.

“The Entity will make him a new one, and I need to repurpose this one.” Nancy isn’t given any time to ask him what he meant before her arms are being pulled behind her and her face is pushed up against the bark. She feels the cotton being tied around her wrists, binding them together behind her back, and all she can do is grunt as she is roughly turned around and forced to face him. His head was tilted to the side and the familiar sense of excitement and dread that he elicited began to creep forward, and her eyes followed his hand as he reached for her shoulder, hooks a finger underneath the thin strap of her tank top and tugs it down her arm.

“Do you trust me?”

An odd question, but he was an odd person. “No. Should I?”

“Not outside of this moment.” Holding up the sleeve that he ripped off, Nancy can swear she hears the grin in his tone and her brows furrow as she tries to piece together just what he was going to do to her.

“That isn’t exactly reassuring,” While her mouth says one thing, her body was screaming something different, and the Ghost Face was absolutely perceptive enough to see right through her bluff; he was a bonafide stalker after all.

“As much as I enjoy hurting you, and trust me, Nance, I love causing you pain, I love watching you squirm and I love it when you beg me to stop, that isn’t what this is about. Tonight, it seems that I have to not only remind you that I am not the kind of person who shares, but that you are also incredibly lucky to have caught my attention.”

If this is what being lucky was considered, then Nancy wouldn’t mind a rain check. She could be warm, in a tent and safely tucked away in the arms of someone who didn’t abuse her. It was lonely, but at least she wasn’t alone. Out here in the woods with Danny though? She may have someone physically next to her, but there was only one person in her corner, and the Ghost Face was not that person.

“I can see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours…” he says softly, cupping her cheeks with both hands and blue eyes slide shut at the gentle contact. It was such a change from his earlier touches, and since these private moments between them were scarce enough as it is, she very rarely expected anything on the more intimate side from him. There was no way that Nancy was turning it down, however, and she nuzzles her face into his palm, a chaste kiss lingering on the leather. He was a fool to think that she was doing things with anyone else, not when she was so pathetically smitten with him, and while he was unusually perceptive, she wouldn’t be surprised if that key detail went completely ignored due to his own disbelief; the way he viewed himself was surprisingly realistic compared to the over-confident persona he always put forth.

“What on earth could you possibly be thinking about that is bringing out this uncharacteristic softness?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over her lower lip, which part slightly as Nancy debates if she actually wants to answer his question. Had this been another life, and another time, perhaps he would actually believe her. It wasn’t like she would lie to him (he wouldn’t let her either, but that was beside the point), but that didn’t mean anything when he instantly doubted her words. Her fingers twitch and she huffs, pulling her head back from his hold. Her eyes dart back and forth over the eye sockets of his mask, looking for something, anything at all that would give her an idea of how to safely navigate herself through this. There wasn’t much Nancy could do to escape him though, not with her hands bound behind her back and her shirt pulled down to rest around her stomach, resulting in a rather compromising scene. A silence hangs between the two of them for a few moments as she contemplates her choices, before settling on telling the truth, but omitting key details.

“It isn’t uncharacteristic at all. It just doesn’t happen around you, because I’m usually on the run. I don’t have the time to be soft around someone constantly trying to kill me… At least, not outside of these moments… And these don’t exactly happen often...” Her words trail off in uncertainty and she nervously licks her lips. She imagines his eyes staring intently at her, silently daring her to look away, and silently trying to discern if she was telling him the truth or not. He was usually a good judge of character, but when it came to the petite female in front of him…

“I’m not complaining if that’s what you’re assuming,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It just isn’t something I ever expected to be directed at me.” He said it so casually, that Nancy felt a pang of pity for him. It also made her curious just what kind of life he had led, but that was something to chase at another time. Right now, she had a burning need between her legs that only he could satisfy, and she isn’t sure how much longer she can keep this back and forth going. Her endurance towards his advances had increased, but it had been so long since she last had him to herself; since she had more than fleeting touches in the occasional Trial. It had been long enough that she had practically thrown herself at him the second he revealed himself tonight and the shame that had eluded her earlier came crashing down in full force. She sighs, leaning fully against the tree trunk, shifting her shoulders in her discomfort. It felt weird having an almost human conversation with someone wearing a mask straight out of a Hallowe’en store.

“Can you at least tie my hands at the front?” she asks, trying to get away from the tension that she had caused. Tonight had been going so well, and perhaps Nancy had to concede that it had been going too well.

“No. I prefer them behind your back because it puts your tits on display, and I never get to see them because of that fucking sweater you’re always wearing. That, and it’s going to provide less resistance for what I have in mind.”

While Nancy knew they were on the same page throughout most of these private encounters, it was nice to hear it. Her fingers involuntarily curl around each other in the sudden onslaught of anticipation that was sparked from his words alone. Once again his hands were cupping her cheeks, but they weren’t gentle this time and she could feel the excitement that was practically oozing off of him. It meshed wonderfully with her own impatience and only served to stoke the burning embers that were secretly fanned. With a tight grip of her chin, her head is turned to the side, and he buries the cold plastic into the crook of her neck, and Nancy finds herself wishing he had done as she asked and had taken the rotten thing off. What she wouldn’t give to feel his sharp teeth leaving burning bruises along her collarbone.

“I want to feel the back of your throat convulsing around my cock.” he purrs.

If her hands were free, she would have grabbed the back of his neck and feverishly pressed her mouth against his. While she wasn’t normally one for dirty talk, there was something different about how he said his words; the mutual desperation they both shared for each other had a habit of zapping away at her usually logical actions. She groans in audible frustration, shifting to press a leg against his inner thigh in hopes of getting him to either touch her or at least continue with his train of thought. Gentle encouragement that would hopefully lead to some not so gentle manhandling; something that she so desperately needed right now. It was an escape from the usual feelings of hopelessness and despair that threatened to consume her on a daily basis. There was no salvation from the web that the Entity weaved, and unless they wanted to be picked off one by one, they had to play its game; but right now there weren’t shadowy tendrils looming around the corners, there were just two pawns on the board looking desperately be something else, anything else. All she wants to do is run her fingers through his hair, but unless he decides to remove these restraints…

“Get on your knees, Princess.” As he says this, he’s grabbing a fist full of brown locks and removing her choice in the matter. Her head is pushed down and there is barely any resistance from her as her knees clash painfully against the cold ground, and she is thankful that she chose to wear her jeans instead of a pair of shorts. Grunting, Nancy looks up at him, annoyance prominent on her face. There had been no way to steady herself as she went down, and it was only because of Danny’s grip in her hair that she hadn’t toppled over.

“Who’s the impatient one now?” she retorts but there would be no way for her to deny her own excitement, which was getting tired of being ignored.

“I have never once tried to hide my interest in you, Miss Wheeler. In fact, it was you who spent months spurning my advances, and I am not going to apologize for something I haven’t done to you _yet_.” With one hand tangled in her hair, the other is moving to unfasten the buttons of his jeans, and Nancy bites at the inside of her cheek, silently impressed at just how quickly he was able to pop them out; it hinted at the deftness that his hands possessed, a wholly unnecessary, but rather welcome reminder of what he was capable of doing. That familiar heat that is brought from simply being around him begins to pool between her legs, and she shifts, rubbing her thighs together as she eagerly waits for him to free himself from his confines. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but anything that distracted her from her reality was a welcome change, and she parts her lips obediently, keeping her gaze trained on his mask. Her tongue darts over her lower lip, a silent promise of what she intended to do to him and Nancy thinks she can see him stiffen in poorly concealed anticipation; the grip in her hair certainly tightened, which drew a pained hiss from her.

“Your eagerness is hot as fuck, Nance.” He wastes no time in guiding her mouth towards his cock which she could see pulsing against the midnight black of his clothing and her tongue runs hotly over the swollen tip that was presented for her. The response was instantaneous. Most of their encounters were quick and straight to the point; she would be pushed up against whatever it is that he felt like pushing her against and taken right then and there. It worked for them, but there was no way for Nancy to deny the excitement that gripped her when the taste of his precum commanded her attention. She very rarely had a chance to take her time and enjoy more than just his cock, and while Nancy is very aware that she isn’t exactly going to experience a different body part, she can’t remember the last time she had tasted him so strongly. His audible expression of pleasure has her pressing her tongue flat against the base of his shaft and slowly begins to work her way upwards, the trailing heat of saliva cooling quickly once the wet appendage returns its attention back to the head. The fingers in her hair pull at her impatiently, and she hums in amusement, casting her gaze upwards, before wrapping her lips around the tip.

Danny wasn’t usually vocal outside of dirty talk (which he was scarily proficient at), which made Nancy acutely aware of the shaky inhale that he gasped out as she slowly began to take him down her throat. For now, she was setting the pace, but from the sudden jump of his hips as the warmth of her mouth engulfs him, she knew it wouldn’t be long before he was thrusting down her throat with reckless abandon, chasing after a release that only she had been able to coax out of him. The gentle bobbing of her head has him rocking into her movements, determined to bury himself just a little bit deeper than she initially wanted to allow. There isn’t any way she can stop him though, and her fingers curl uselessly, her nails scraping at her palms as she forces herself to relax her throat to make the intrusion less uncomfortable. Nancy was far from a prude and while she was no stranger to both giving and receiving oral, it was never something she expected that would ever happen again, and a muffled moan worked from her throat as his hips sank fully against her upper body. Both of his hands are curled behind the back of her head, firmly holding her in place. There was no way she could escape, but she didn’t want to escape anyways. The back of her throat clenched tightly around Danny’s cock, which rewarded her with a shuddery moan, something that sent chills racing up and down her spine like jolts of violent electricity. His hips roll slowly and Nancy is determined to keep looking up at him; he was watching her, waiting for the corners of her eyes to prick with tears before pulling back, and he doesn’t have to wait long. A choked gag soon echoes the air, and when the second tear rolls down her face, Danny's hips snap back immediately, freeing her throat and running his thumbs over her cheeks to collect the saltine markings. A thick trail of saliva is all that connects them to each other, and she rocks back on her heels, eyes greedily raking over the sight standing before her.

She didn’t need his clothes off to see the raw power that he possessed, but her mind was certainly rushing to fill the void. From what Nancy had seen, the Ghost Face was a very fit person (she doesn’t know how long he has been stuck in the Fog, but it was certainly longer than her, and in her ‘short’ time trapped here, she had toned up drastically), and the mental image that she conjured up for herself was enough to have her lean forward with parted lips and stick her tongue out eagerly to allow access when he wished. Had it been anyone else, had it been any other situation, Nancy would have been thoroughly embarrassed by her actions, but it was like she turned into a completely different person when under his intrusive gaze. Most of the time, she did her best to avoid giving him any information at all, as any edge he had over her would be remembered and utilized later at his convenience, but then there were times like this when whispers of touches and a few well-spoken sentences could almost completely undo her. It was completely maddening, and yet she can’t help the needy lick she trails up his cock, the urge to have him back inside of her in any capacity, was so very overwhelming.

“Danny..” His name falls from her lips in a whispered tone riddled with her desperation. The escape that came with their stolen nights was intentionally being denied to her, and Nancy is forced to admit that until she gave him what he wanted, she would continue to be toyed with until he got bored… But now that she thinks about it, would that really be so bad? It would break up the monotony of this tortured existence she was forced to live...

“Yes?”

“Are you going to actually fuck me, or was coming out here a complete waste of my time?”

She just couldn’t stop herself, could she? Like a moth drawn to a flame, Nancy rests tensely against his hips, her mouth centimetres away from his cock, which was twitching with arousal. She exhales deeply, her warm breath was intended to be both teasing and irritating, a quiet act of defiance to follow up her verbal one. Her words were either going to get her what she wanted, or they were going to land her in hot water and leave her aching in ways she didn’t want to ache. It didn’t matter what it was going to net her, because it was going to be something different, it was going to be a dirty little secret that made her breath hitch and her body prick with anticipation when he wasn’t even around.

“Is that what you want?” He sounds curious. Why else would she have come out here? “Do you want me to fuck you into the dirt like you’re nothing more than a hole to rut in?” The growl he draws forth is nothing short of feral and Nancy tugs against her restraints, her fingers straining to grab something, anything that wasn’t herself; Danny’s back was greatly preferred, but she wasn’t picky at this point as she just needed some kind of contact. A deep blush settles over her countenance at his words, and just how much truth rang to them, but there was no point in shying away from something she wasn’t exactly trying to hide in the first place. Instead, she presses her lips against the underside of his dick, her tongue just darting out to briefly taste the clear droplet of precum that dripped forth. Her eyes are defiant and there is faint amusement in her raised brow and Nancy can see him deciding just what he was going to do with her. If her plans were going to be derailed, then so were his.

“ _Where’s your sense of adventure, Danny?_ ” The words were muttered lowly, and before she could stop it, the smallest smirk snuck its way out.

He noticed, but then again, he always did.

She isn’t sure when he pulled the knife out, but she gasps loudly when the cold blade presses sharply against her throat. The regret she feels is instantaneous. “Stand up.” As Nancy scrambles to her feet, the sting of his knife follows her. Enough pressure is applied that if she didn’t do what he asked, all he would have to do is flick his wrist slightly, and she would be cut. How deep the cut would be… Well, that would rest entirely on how he felt, and the consistent ribbing was likely wearing him thin. Now that she’s on her feet, he still looks menacing, but significantly less so, but there would be nothing she could do to stop anything he did. Normally, she had a semblance of being able to turn and flee, but here? All she had was her confidence in his infatuation with her. Despite the knife at her throat, there was a cool distance between them, one she longed to close at a great detriment to her safety, Nancy pressed back against the blade, a wince darting over her features as she felt the skin split. The hot trickle of blood tracing its way down her neck causes Danny to go dangerously still. Was it the fact that she had hurt herself instead of allowing him to do it, or was the sick part of him just enjoying the gore, regardless of how it got there?

Even with the imminent threat of death looming over her, she can’t help but notice that if it wasn’t for her panties, her thighs would have been covered in her slick. She had become so accustomed to his treatment, that her body had begun to crave it, and tonight was only different because she could finally act on her urges instead of wallowing in her frustration. Her breathing hitches when she spies him fiddling with the other ripped arm of Steve’s sweater and the fabric is dragged slowly up her torso as Danny closes the distance between them. When his hand reaches her face, he pries her mouth open, before removing the blade from her neck, and replacing the clothed digit with the knife. He doesn’t need to say anything for Nancy to know what was expected, and yet the taste of the metallic copper was almost enough to make her spit it out. Fingers wind through her hair for a moment, before her head is pulled up, and the sweater sleeve is slowly draped over her eyes. There is no way to deny the tremble that crashes over her, nor was she able to protest against his actions. A firm knot is tied at the back of her head, and the knife is removed from her mouth, only to be dragged down her cheek, to her neck, the sharp tip leaving a bright red streak in its wake. It moves hotly over the fresh wound, lingering within the split skin for a moment before he traces the outline of her breast. Even with her body adjusted to the night air, her nipples harden when that delicious sting dug into her areola. Her breathing is shaky and uneven, and the fact that she wasn’t able to see only added to the suspense.

The gentle rustling of fabric draws her attention from the blade gliding over her skin and she is glad she noticed in time, or she would have likely not been able to keep standing. Hot lips press against her throat and his sweltering tongue greedily laps up the trail of blood that had lept forth to meet his blade. Sharp teeth nibble at the expanse of her collarbone and she moans, her eyes sliding shut. He knew better than to leave marks on her body, but that was apparently thrown out to the wind as his teeth moved from teasing, to harsh. He rolls the skin between his teeth, sucking roughly before smoothing the pain out with his tongue. She can already feel the bruise beginning to blossom, but that doesn’t stop her from tilting her head back and further exposing her neck to him, and Danny wastes no time in lavishing the rest of it with his wet treatment. That, coupled with the knife pressed hotly under her breast and a hand wandering down to the front of her pants, leaves Nancy gasping.

She isn’t sure how long he spends marking her up, but from how it felt, there wasn’t a single spot of skin that wasn’t going to be bruised, and those possessive lips of his move to the lobe of her ear. His teeth pull at the thick cartilage which earns him a needy whine. His chuckle echoes in her skull and her hips unwittingly buck against his hand, which was inching the loose fabric down her legs impatiently.

“You never did answer my question,” he says casually as he helps her out of her pants. They are kicked off impatiently, which reveal the rather lacy panties that she wore. 

“Which question? You’ve asked a few and I’ve avoided most of them.” 

The sharp squeal he elects from roughly pinching her nipple amuses him, and Danny pushes her back against the tree, an unseen grin on his lips. As fun as it would be to fuck her at knifepoint, Nancy didn’t exactly have anything to hold onto, and the blade is sheathed and returned to its spot on his hip. He hooks his fingers along the sides of her panties and pulls them down, his gaze never leaving her. The way her chest moved up and down as she struggled to maintain her composure, a single bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face, and she put no fight up as she stepped out of the offending fabric. As he stands up, his hands curl around the flesh of her ass, and he’s pulling her tightly against him. The hot skin of his cock pressed against Nancy’s stomach only promises what was to come, and when she feels him lifting her off the floor, her legs automatically move to wrap around his waist to give her some sort of vantage. The swollen tip of his dick slides against her opening, and she bites at her lip, her fingers grabbing at the bark she was being held up against. “Fucking hell Nancy, you’re absolutely soaked.”

She knows this and there would be no point in denying it, not when he was pressed so hotly against her, and about to give her what she wanted. His fingers digging into her ass, he groans lowly as he rocks his hips lazily, fully sheathing himself inside of her. She can feel her inner walls spreading to accommodate his length, and when his hips sink completely against hers, she feels impossibly full. The top of his cock was nestled snugly against her cervix, which created a delicious friction that teetered between pain and pleasure. His breathing is hot and heavy by her ear and she turns her head, nuzzling her cheek against his, before her lips ghost over his lower jaw. She presses sloppy kisses to everywhere but his mouth, and while she so badly wanted to kiss him, that wasn’t exactly something that had ever happened between the two of them before.

“Please move..” she whispers, her mouth hovering at the corner of his. It was just a centimetre of distance between their lips, but it felt uncrossable. “I need you to move.”

His hips roll, earning him a conflicted groan as he continues to press against the deepest part of her. Pulling back slightly, he takes a moment to admire his work. One Nancy Wheeler, hands tied behind her back, vision obscured, tits exposed and practically begging him to fuck her… What a delicious sight. He can see her struggling to not completely give in to her most primitive desires, and with an impersonal buck of his hips, he makes that just a little bit harder. The sound that falls from her lips is all that is needed for him to start moving, fingers digging with bruising force into the flesh of her ass.

He is slow and methodical with his movements, each thrust meant to draw a desperate sound from her, to whittle away at her rapidly waning resolve, and Nancy falls hook, line and sinker for his technique. The high pitched, warbly whines of her coming slowly undone were music to his ears, and he grunts as he feels her velvet walls clench down tightly around him. His mouth finds the purchase of her collarbone, and he bites down _hard_ , his teeth grinding cruelling into the bone. As he does this, he pulls his hips back, before sinking fully into her once more. The sheer tightness and warmth that gripped greedily at him were dizzying, and it doesn’t take long for his intentional actions to turn frantic. His breath is hot against her neck, and when he releases her collarbone, she can feel his teeth pull out of her skin, and there’s a numbness left behind in the absence of his mouth.

“Kiss me,” she forces out between each rough buck of his hips. Her words are stuttered and her voice hitches and she sounds so pathetically desperate but she can’t stop herself. Every time he pulled back and roughly hilted himself inside of her again, the upward slope of his cock would rub up against the neglected bundle of nerves, and the urgent pace he was setting had her insides squirming and her toes curling. The air was punctuated by the wet sounds of their intertwined bodies and Nancy’s increasingly loud moans, and she was so sensitive that she could feel him getting closer to his release from how his sex swelled within her. Danny’s breathing was raspy and ragged against her ear and she reckons that she hears her name fall from his lips once or twice. It was almost enough to push her over the edge; this strong, ruthless predator calling _her_ name out like he _needed_ her. 

The grip he had on her ass tightens painfully, and Nancy can only imagine how uncomfortable sitting on the log by the campfire was going to be and her back arches in response to the rough stimulus. She was so close, all she needed was a few more hard thrusts and the coil of heat that was rapidly building in her core would be satisfied. Well, that is what she thought she needed; Danny seemed hellbent on proving her wrong.

The way his lips clamped over hers was ravenous. He swallowed her gasp and the whimpers that followed, and he swallowed every breath she tried to take and it almost felt like he was trying to suffocate her with his mouth. Her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave and he isn’t far behind. A hot tongue snakes its way into her mouth and it's all Nancy can do to kiss him back. It was sloppy and rushed, but her fingers were scrabbling at the bark of the tree uselessly as they sought something, anything to grab onto. There is nothing, and her head rolls slightly to the side as Danny continues with his furious pace. Her entire body was tense with overstimulation, but she wouldn’t be satisfied until he painted her insides white. Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against hers as he shudders helplessly against her. The burning heat of his release splatters against her womb, and she can feel each pulse of his cock as he rides out his orgasm. Nancy presses soft, sweet kisses over his face and if she could purr, she most certainly would have. The grip on her butt is no longer quite as tight, and he’s grabbing at her thighs to steady her as she unhooks her ankles and he slides out of her. The immediate loss of being full begins her quick descent back into reality, and by the time her feet touch the ground around, there’s a trail of cold liquid making its way down her legs.

His hands rest around her waist, holding her firmly in place, and she slumps slightly against him, her knees feeling weak as she tries to catch her breath. She didn't think his hunger to be so consuming, but she wasn’t complaining; for a first kiss, it certainly placed some higher standards. He had claimed her mouth like it was the first and last time he would ever have the chance to, and her swollen lips tremble at the memory. It had been unlike any other time she had kissed someone and despite the itch being moderately scratched, she can’t help the pang of arousal that clings guilty in her stomach. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually…” Her words trail off. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.”

His quiet chuckle was accompanied by warm lips that were slightly chapped pressed against the underside of her jaw as if he was only interested in meeting her halfway.

“I have to keep you thinking about me for the right reasons, don’t I, doll?” His words felt like fire against her skin and his tongue languidly runs over one of the many bruises he inflicted. His teeth ghost over her pulse and his grip moves from her waist to her hands, and Nancy is aware of them being freed from their cotton confines and the second her mobility is returned, they wrap around Danny’s shoulders, fingers curling in his hair as she tugs his mouth away from her neck, and up to hover over hers. His breath burns against her lips and the throaty whine that leaps forth has him pulling her hips against his, and she can feel the faintest pressure of a half chub against her thigh. Now that her hands were free…

“I would take you again, but there’s someone here.” he murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing against hers before he pulls away. “Keep the blindfold on until I tell you that you can take it off, or I’m killing whoever it is.” The grip in his hair faltered at his words, which allowed him to carefully pry her fingers out of his hair. One last appreciative look has his eyes roaming over Nancy’s lithe frame as he tucks himself back into his pants and pulls his mask firmly back over his face. Her discarded clothes are carefully picked up and dusted off to the best of his ability before Danny deposits them in her arms. Gripping her chin between his index finger and his thumb, he cranes her head upwards to get a glance at the smeared blood that was drying on her pale skin. The cut wasn’t too deep, as he had pulled back when she had pressed back against his blade. Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t hurt _too_ badly, he releases his hold on her face and quickly tugs the sweater sleeve off her head. Blinking as her eyes struggle to adjust to the dark, Nancy squints, and a frown nestles into the corners of her mouth when she sees that he put his mask back on. It was probably the smartest thing to do, but a part of her longed to see that boyish twinkle in his eyes. Perhaps another time.

Grabbing the sweater sleeve turned blindfold, Nancy wipes down the insides of her thighs before pulling her panties back on. She shuffles into her pants and pulls up the straps of her tank top back to her shoulder. Now that her protection against the cold had been shredded and used as a cumrag, there was no way she could bring it back to the campfire and return it to its owner. Her hands curl around her upper arms as she shifts from foot to foot, her inquisitive gaze peering out from behind Danny. Just because Nancy couldn’t see the person, that didn’t mean they weren’t there; the Ghost Face was known for his attention to detail, after all. A gentle finger tugs playfully at her hair and she resists the urge to swat him away. “You’re fucking stunning with your hair down, Nancy.”

She can’t help but smile at that.

No goodbyes are offered as he melts into the darkness, and the young woman is left standing there, her cunt still slick with the proof of her sins. A few moments pass before Nancy steps out from behind the tree she was hiding behind, and blue eyes remain alert as she quickly makes her way back to the campfire. She unzips the flap of her shared tent and kicks her shoes off before clambering back inside and sealing herself in. The dark outline of Steve’s sleeping form greets her, and she all but collapsed beside him, arms sliding around his waist as she presses her face against his back. Her eyes close, and Nancy thinks she is finally going to get some rest…

“You were gone for a while.” Comes his tired voice as his hand moves to rest over hers. She freezes, tensing against him. Wasn’t he supposed to be asleep? This was not calculated in her arrival plan, and instead of saying anything, her grip tightens around him. Nancy is quick to put together that Steve had gone out looking for her when he had woken up and discovered that she wasn’t there, which meant he had likely overheard her having _sex_ with the _Ghost Face_.

God fucking dammit.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” she asks meekly, desperately hoping that he would drop the subject. She was tired and wonderfully sore, and she needed some bloody sleep, but she had a nagging feeling that she wouldn’t be getting too much of that tonight. A calloused thumb runs over the top of her hand in a calming motion before Steve rolls over and pulls her against his chest, his hand cupping the back of her head gently.

“Get some sleep, Nance.” That’s all it takes for her eyes to slide shut and for her to relax against him. For now, he was content to ignore the elephant in the room, and for that, Nancy was thankful.


	2. Introducing Entify

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> frank gets handsy and nancy doesn't appreciate that

Frank Morrison would vehemently deny that he was a kleptomaniac, and he would rightly stab anyone who was foolish enough to try and protest that within his vicinity. It wasn’t that he _stole_ things, he just borrowed them without the intention of returning them; but the option was always there, he just never acted on it. Why should he though? If someone wasn’t smart enough to secure their possessions, then they deserved to have them swiped. This was the fuel behind his sudden interest in Nancy Wheeler; he had simply noticed that the Ghost Face had taken an unnatural intrigue towards her, and Frank figured he had nothing better to do than intentionally irritate the rather flawless stalker. It was a pissing contest, he reckons, one that Danny was usually quite chuffed to participate in, and yet when the normally composed killer found out that he had been sniffing around the girl that he had all but claimed, he hadn’t bothered to announce his presence when he invited himself over to the Ormond Resort. He didn’t bother to apologize when he crept up on the unsuspecting leader of The Legion, successfully spooking him, nor did he apologize for the blade he wedged firmly into Frank’s hand. He could feel the anger practically oozing off of the Ghost Face, and he isn’t sure who he irked more; the killer, or the human that lingered below the surface. Either way, it had drawn a cruel laugh from behind his mask, and he slowly pulled the blade out of his body, fingers twitching at the sharp pain that assaulted his senses.

“Hello to you too, Johnson,” he says, flexing his injured hand for a moment before wiping the blood off the blade on his pants. Deftly flipping the handle towards the other, a brow quirks from behind his mask. “What have I done to deserve the pleasure of your company?” It had been a while since he had sustained an injury outside of a Trial, and unlike those that happened under the Entity’s influence, these wounds didn’t heal quite as quickly. The only bright side he could pick out was the fact that it was his left hand and not his right.

“I felt like stabbing someone and I was in the area,” Comes his aloof reply as his hand stretches out to grab the proffered knife. 

“You need to work on your habit of hanging around places you aren’t wanted,” 

“That’s mighty rich, especially coming from you, Morrison.” 

Frank certainly didn’t deny that, and he props his chin on the palm of his uninjured hand, staring pointedly at the intruder. He only had so much patience, and it was already worn thin due to Susie and Joe’s incessant bickering. It had its moments when it was tolerable, endearing even, but not today. He hadn’t been getting many Trials recently, and the ones he did get usually ended faster than he wanted them to, so that murderous itch he was trying to coexist with, was refusing to be silenced. He knew logically, he wouldn’t be able to beat the Ghost Face in a knife fight, but it would certainly help alleviate the boredom that was coursing through his veins. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Frank contemplates taking his mask off. There was no need for such formalities, not when there was something of a rudimentary friendship between the two, but his musings are cut short when Danny abruptly stands up and brandishes his knife lazily along his pulse.

“Stay away from Nancy Wheeler.” Is all he says before turning to leave. He didn’t need to say anything else, as the leader of The Legion got his message loud and clear.

Frank was going to _break her_ _instead._

\--

She was so unbelievably warm. Strong arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, and a groan was pulled from soft lips as Nancy ebbs into consciousness. Desperately, she tried to chase the sleep that was beginning to elude her, and a hand rubs at her eyes tiredly, as she begins to adjust to being awake. It wasn’t long until she felt Steve’s mouth press gently against her shoulder, and her eyes slid shut once more. It would be so easy to just allow his presence to lull her back into that sense of restfulness, but alas, it wasn’t an option as his voice rasps out over the otherwise quiet tent: “You awake?”

A soft hum is his response, and his grip immediately slackens, which allows Nancy some room to roll over and prop herself up on her elbow. With her chin in the palm of her hand, she reaches out to brush a strand of his hair to the side of his face while he blinked blearily at her. There’s a small smile hiding in the corners of her lips but it is fast to fade when she notices how quickly he begins to look uncomfortable. His eyes flicker down to her neck, and with a grimace, Nancy pulls her hand away from him, and abruptly sits up, fingers curling around the bruised flesh. This was exactly why she had implemented that rule of not leaving any marks; it created a lead to an otherwise unsolvable crime. If there was no evidence of their transgressions, then they were less likely to get caught, and she can’t help but laugh dryly at the irony of everything.

“Is going back to sleep and pretending you saw nothing on the table?” she asks, completely aware that it wasn’t. She can feel him shake his head and she can’t help the slight tremble she felt when his fingers brushed up harmlessly against her outer thigh. 

“No one said you had to explain anything, Nance,” he mumbles, and Nancy isn’t sure if he just didn’t care, or if he just wanted to avoid getting mixed up in that drama, but she certainly isn’t going to complain. 

“Thank you.” 

“Though you should probably put on your turtleneck before leaving the tent.” There is faint amusement in his voice and the burning heat of embarrassment is quick to colour her cheeks. At least he wasn’t overreacting and making a huge scene out of this… The gentle teasing was enough. 

“Well, it's not like I plan on everyone seeing these marks… Though they would likely think they are from  _ you _ .” There is a sly tone in her voice and as she says this, she reaches across the bed for where her sweater was crumpled at the base of their blow-up mattress. She hears him snort, and Steve sits up, raising his arms above his head to get a stretch in. His bones popped loudly, and by the time Nancy had pulled her sweater over her head, the front flap to their tent was being unzipped, and Meg stuck her head inside, a goofy grin stretched over her face. 

“You guys have got to check this out! The Entity gave us  _ music _ !” she says, her excitement evident. “And I’m not talking about Kate strumming away on her guitar, or Jane singing whatever she feels like singing, I’m talking actual music! Like, real bands from the real world!”

"Meg, that makes no sense,” Steve says, poking his head out from behind Nancy, who leaned back to give him space to see. 

“I know, but we somehow have something like iTunes, or at least, the Entity’s version of it!” 

“iTunes?”

“Uh, oh right. You aren’t from that time era, are you?” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “What year were you guys taken from?”

The entire concept that the Entity was able to pull people from different points in time was asinine, and Nancy can’t help her brows furrowed in confusion. She knew the creature controlling their lives was powerful, but just the idea of it being immune to time… There was just too much they didn’t understand.

“1985,” Nancy replies as she shoos Meg away from the flap, who moves quickly to give her room to get out.

“2010 here.” 

As she stands up, the brunette is met with the sight of the campfire being completely surrounded. It seemed that every survivor had been called out for whatever was happening and as Nancy begins to head over to the fire, she hears Steve’s voice ring out, and she freezes.

“Have you seen my sweater, I could have sworn it was here yesterday?” He sounded so genuinely flabbergasted, and the guilt inside of her cackles maniacally. She ducks her head down, before offering a sheepish response: “Not since last night.” There is no way that Nancy was going to stay there while he pieced together just what she meant, and she trots obediently towards the crowd of people who were all talking eagerly to one another. She had only seen this kind level of excitement and curiosity when a new survivor and killer showed up, and to be honest, it was nice to witness. It was such a stark difference from the usual sombre aura that radiated off everyone, and she pads over to Quentin, propping her chin on his shoulder, and peering over his hunched frame to take a peek at what he was doing. 

“What is that?” she asks.

“The new charm from the Entity, but the cool thing is it _works_ as an actual smartphone. So far we’ve only discovered there’s music on this thing called.. ‘Entify’.” Nancy’s brows raise at the name. “You can sort through music at a year by year interval, it seems.” When he looks up, he sees her visible confusion, he can’t help but laugh. “Right, so think radio stations but with a lot more control about what you want to listen to, and portable. It’s basically having all sorts of music at your fingertips, and it doesn’t make a lick of sense, but fuck if it doesn’t help with uplifting spirits. The painful monotony has been getting to people…”

Nancy can’t deny that, and she craned her neck to get a better look at the ‘smartphone’ that he was holding. She had never seen anything like this before, and the temptation to pluck it out of his hands and examine it herself, was strong, but she is able to resist. If what Quentin was saying was true, then she too would have this charm, and while it would likely be easier to just sneak off, she didn’t have a clue how any of this future technology worked. Instead, she moves her head off his shoulder and settles down beside him, wrapping an arm around her knees, which she pulls up to her chest. 

“I would kill for some french toast right about now,” she says as she watches his fingers dance over the cracked screen. She could just make out the words of what she assumed were song titles… None of which she recognized though. “What year are those from?”

“Says 2015. That’s… Five years after I was taken.” Nancy reaches her hand out to give his knee a gentle squeeze. In the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t been here all that long, and part of her felt guilty for feeling so tired already. Her torment had just begun, and she swallowed thickly at that realization. Unless they somehow managed to find a way out of this, they were going to be stuck here forever; death was not an escape after all. “I prefer waffles, but at this point, I would be so unbelievably grateful for  _ food _ .” 

“What’s the latest year?” 

Quentin pauses, leaving the list for the songs in 2015, and moving the screen upwards. “2019.”

“So that would mean… It’s 2020 in the real world?”

They are both silent as they worked out the jumbled idea of time that they had. The longer they were trapped here, the foggier their memories of their past lives were. Some things were hard to forget, and in a sleepy haze, she had called out for Jonathan more than once and had been saddened by the fact that the warm body next to hers wasn’t his. While she would always have a love for the oldest Byers boy, Nancy isn’t sure she would be able to go back to him if they ever did get out. Her time in the Entity’s realm had altered her too much, and she was barely clinging to the shredded remains of who she once was.

“Play your favourite song,” she commands suddenly, looking to change the topic. If they really had access to music, she wanted to see it. Such a small luxury would be a huge game-changer in the grand scheme of things. While she had songs she enjoyed, she never took the time to find the solace in it, not the way others did. Quentin hums quietly, before scrolling down to 2001, and begins to look through the artists. He is quick to find something labelled ‘Gorillaz’, and Nancy is curious as to what kind of music a band with such a name would produce. She knew better than to automatically write them off though, and Quentin pulled out.. Well, she isn’t sure what he pulled out of his pants pocket. He inserts it in a small socket at the base of the smartphone and then hands her one of the wires. Motioning for her to copy him, he places it in his ear, and Nancy does the same thing. It felt light, and she blinked quickly when a sudden noise flooded her hearing. It wasn’t… Bad, but it was certainly not what she was expecting ‘Clint Eastwood’ by ‘Gorillaz’ to be. 

_ I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad _

_ I got sunshine in a bag _

_ I'm useless but not for long _

_ The future is coming on _

_ It's coming on _

_ It's coming on _

“What genre is this?” she asks, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

“Uh. Each song is different, actually. I wouldn’t exactly say they had a dedicated genre.” he muses, bumping the music up again. A comfortable silence follows the increase in volume, and Nancy notes that he’s mouthing the words. It reminded her of her car rides with Jonathan, and how she would watch him light up when a song he knew came on the radio. It was almost nostalgic, but this wasn’t Jonathan, and she wasn’t in Hawkins, and ‘Clint Eastwood’ was certainly not what she was used to listening to. She isn’t sure how much longer is left on the song before Steve wanders along and nudges his shoe against her feet. Looking away from Quentin, she offers him a small smile.

“So what’s this about music magically being bestowed upon us?” he asks the two people who were hunched over together, sitting a little ways away from the rest of the group. The man beside her looked immediately annoyed, and raised his brow at Steve, before moving a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. This was his first time listening to music in ten years, and Quentin was going to enjoy it. Thankfully, his message was interpreted correctly, and the silence that he craved fell over them again, and he was able to resume his attention to mouthing the words of a song he never thought he would get to hear again. He hits pause the second the song switches to something else and offers a sheepish grin to his companions as a way of a silent apology. 

“So?” he asks, looking directly at Nancy.

“I mean, I’ve never heard anything like it before.” she says, and that wasn’t a lie. While she isn’t sure that she would listen to it again, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “Do they have ‘Tainted Love’ by ‘Soft Cell’? The year was… 1982… Or was it 1983? It was somewhere before 1985...” Looking up at Steve for confirmation, he cocks his head as he tries to remember. 

“Something like that…” he mumbles. “I don’t.. The specifics of things from the real world are really hazy.”

Quentin looks sympathetic, but he isn’t deterred from finding the requested song, and he pulls the wire out of the bottom of the smartphone and yanks the little bud in her ear out. “These things in our ears, what are they?”

“Earbuds,” he says slowly, looking up to make direct eye contact with her. Nancy can feel her cheeks redden at the sheer simplicity of it. It was so... Obvious. She can hear a poorly suppressed snicker come from above her, and her arms cross over her chest as she narrows her eyes indignantly. 

“I’d rather ask than assume...” she mutters, jamming her heel against the front of Steve’s foot to get him to stop laughing at her plight. Neither of them had seen anything like this before, and while she would love to linger on her musings, the comforting sound of a familiar song floods her senses. 

“Marilyn Manson did a cover of this,” Quentin comments quietly after a few moments. “I don’t think I’ve actually heard the original before though.” Another artist she didn’t know, but then again, over twenty years had passed since she was taken; the world surely had evolved from what she knew it as. She taps her fingers along with the beat and is pleased to note that Steve seemed to be enjoying the music as well, which was interesting, because ‘Soft Cell’ was usually not to his tastes. He had two genres that he enjoyed: hard metal or super gushy romance songs, and there was no in-between. It was a quirk of his that greatly amused her when they were dating, and she had a sudden feeling that it was going to surface again.

“Who’s Marilyn Manson?” Steve asks.

“He’s… I don’t think I can accurately explain him to someone who knows nothing about him.” 

“Him?”

"Exactly my point. I can play his rendition after this, but I’m not sure Nancy will like it.”

“Can you two shut up? I want to listen to this song.” She can practically see Steve rolling his eyes, and Quentin immediately settles down; fair was fair after all. 

\--

Nancy isn’t sure how long they were listening to music, but her neck and back ached from how long she had been sitting for. They had gone through the years and played the songs that interested them; she would admit, some of that “pop” stuff, wasn’t terrible. The skin on the back of her neck pricks suddenly, and she looks up, rubbing a hand at the corners of her eyes. Her eyes dart back and forth, and Nancy is positive that  _ he _ was nearby, and she is only saved by the cursed feeling pulling at the back of her stomach, letting her know that she was being summoned to a Trial. Dread immediately pumps through her veins, and she swallows thickly as she presses her hands against her knees as she stands up. She can feel the bones squeaking in protest, but there isn’t any way to avoid the call of The Entity. 

“Thanks for showing me some current music, Quentin,” she says, raising her arms above her head. “I have an exit gate to power on, so I must be off.” A quick scan around the area signals that Laurie, Dwight and Claudette were also chosen, as a grim look took over their countenance, chasing away the happiness that had been prevalent moments before. Quickly jogging to her shared tent, Nancy scowls when she spies that the flap had been left open, but doesn’t let that deter her from picking out a toolbox. When she got back, she would talk to Steve about properly closing up their home, but for now, she settled on zipping it up herself and making her way towards the offering bowl. 

From what she knew, killers could also bring offerings to try and sway The Entity in their favour, and she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that Claudette was bringing a medkit, and Dwight was also sporting a toolbox. Laurie, on the other hand, was fiddling with a large shard of glass, passing it back and forth between her palms with a wild look in those blue eyes of hers. She was clearly itching for a chance to use it, and Nancy only offered her a weak smile. Laurie’s strong survival instincts were daunting at times, but the brunette had to hand it to her; that same drive had saved her life countless times when she had been left for dead.

“Hoping for Michael?” she asks, stopping beside the blonde. Laurie doesn’t look up from her hands, but the grip on the glass shard tightens, and Nancy can see the sharp edges pressing into her skin. 

“I'll; be honest, I don’t think I’m going to be too picky about who I stab with this today.” she muses, her head tilting to the side. “However, if I can get Michael between the eyes, I think I could be sacrificed happily for once.” This pulls a laugh from Nancy as it was a personal game for the Strode woman to add to the growing list of scars that Myers had. Tit for tat, she had said by way of explanation, but everyone knew that she was determined to make him suffer for everything he had done to her. If she was going to be stuck here, she was at least going to exact her revenge. 

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” says Dwight, and there is a slight tremble in his hands as he places down a dusty noose. “The bushes on this map are really good for hiding in plain sight.”

Nancy remembers Zarina saying something briefly about that, but she had only been to Glenvale a handful of times. It wasn’t enough for her to remember where everything was, but she had a rough idea of the layout. She would have to be careful if she wanted to make it out of this alive, and she grits her teeth as she turns to face the rolling Fog that was summoning the four of them. Hopefully, it  _ wasn’t _ Michael; the fact that he was such a large man, and was somehow so quiet simply didn’t sit right with her and if it wasn’t for that mask he wore, he would be virtually undetectable until it was too late. 

As the coolness of the mist envelops them, Nancy takes a few steps forward and watches as the scene changes from the forest, to the old Western atmosphere that she found rather scenic, all things considered. As the four of them step into Glenvale, Nancy is aware of the smothering sensation wrapping around her throat, and she gags slightly at the pressure. Being the obsession was never easy, and with a longing look over her shoulder at the closed exit, she began to run, scanning the area for the nearest generator. Spying one across the clearing, she slows into a walk, her head rotating around to catch any sign of who was hunting them. Things were always tense until they knew who the killer was, and when the thrum of her heartbeat began to echo in her ears, she knew they weren’t far away. A fresh wave of fear washes over her, and she sways slightly, her body on high alert, yet somehow feeling fuzzy. Ducking behind a rock, she resolves to wait until she could no longer hear the hammering of her heart. It doesn’t take long before she is on the move again, skulking her way across the main street and moves into the saloon. The view of the stairs gave a decent heads up for when she would need to scatter and as she set up the stairs, Nancy heard a scream ring out in the distance. It sounded like Claudette, and she grimaces, but turns her attention to the machine she was fiddling with. 

As she had been here for a very long time, Claudette was very good at looping the killers, and two generators went off before she was hit a second time. Taking a shaky inhale, she connects the last few wires needed and the generator sputters on. Only two more. A look down nets her the view of Dwight running away from… The Legion. Her eyes narrow as she tries to find an identifiable feature that would allow her to know which member they were up against. As she couldn’t spy pink or blue hair, and the person was on the shorter side, it was easy to rule out Susie and Joey, which only left… Frank and Julie. They looked an awful lot like each other, but from the masculine groan of him leaving his Feral Frenzy, Nancy is able to place exactly who was down there chasing her friend. 

Frank was… Well, he was a hit or miss. Sometimes he took his time in the Trials, preferring to prolong his definition of ‘fun’, and other times the survivors he was chasing were simply used as oil to lubricate his itch for violence. It doesn’t take long before his knife slashes a neat wound down the back of Dwight’s shirt successfully staining the mottled white a bright crimson, and he screams loudly as he surges forward towards a pallet. When both killer and survivor turn a corner, Nancy jumps down from the top of the saloon, gritting her teeth as she feels the bones in her ankles shift to accommodate the sudden impact. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly felt weird to have your bones move in the sockets so your ankles didn’t break.

As she didn’t hear any heartbeat, and Dwight hasn’t screamed again, Nancy begins to make her way over to Claudette, who was still hanging from her hook. Her whimpers almost sound hollow, and when brown eyes raise to meet blue, there is a tired look resting on her face. A soft shushing noise comes from the brunette who, as carefully as she could, pulls her friend off the hook. The wet squelching sound of the metal leaving the flesh makes Nancy gag - No matter how many times she hears it, she just wasn’t getting used to it. Clumsy hands reach for the medkit that was laying on the floor next to the hunched over woman, and she pulls out some butterfly tape. From how deep that wound was, it was going to need stitches, but they didn’t exactly have the time right now, not with Frank salivating after them. She ignores the pained sounds that come from Claudette as she seals the slash to the best of her ability, and Nancy stands up, offering a hand, which is taken gladly. 

“We have this,” Nancy says quietly, squeezing her hand before turning and heading to the gallows. She didn’t believe her own words, not one bit, but she clings to them anyways. Right now, that little glimmer of hope was all they had. By the time she makes it to the next generator, Dwight has been hooked, and Frank had turned his attention to Laurie, who was laughing loudly as she slammed pallet after pallet over his head. Her laugh was drowned out by the sound of the generator coming to life. Only one more.

It wasn’t until the last machine turned on, did Laurie’s scream explode through the air. It wasn’t the usual scream of being stabbed though, no… It was one of pure agony and frustration, and Nancy’s brain concludes that Frank had probably brought No One Escapes Death. 

Of course, he would. Why shouldn’t he? The Entity placed it at their disposal, after all; it was meant to be used.

However, the three remaining survivors were faced with the dilemma of rescuing the feisty blonde or just leaving. There was usually an unspoken agreement between everyone that if they were hooked and the killer brought NOED… They would be left on the hook while everyone else got out. ‘A small sacrifice for the greater cause’, Laurie would say, but Nancy pushes down the instinct that was screaming at her to run, and she slowly makes her way over to where Laurie was hanging. Far in the distance, she can hear the mechanical sound of the exit gates powering up, and she looks around for any sign of Frank. There was no heartbeat, but she couldn’t be too careful.

What Nancy didn’t know was that she was being saved for last. Frank had plans to corral Dwight and Claudette out of the Trial, and if his assessment of the girl’s personality was correct, she would be trying to rescue her friend. He had intentionally placed Laurie on a hook between the two exit gates, which allowed him easy map pressure. It doesn’t take him long at all, to push half of the survivors out of the arena, and he can see them mouthing that they were sorry as they ran out. Turning back, Frank heads towards where Nancy and Laurie were. He hadn’t planned on hooking The Shape’s little sister more than once, but he also didn’t think that she would be rescued by the time he got back to where he left her. Those precious moments he needed were now being wasted.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take him long to hear the pained cries coming from his target, and Frank is upon them instantly, his blade plunging deep into Laurie’s shoulder, and with a grunt, he’s placing his heavy boot on the back of her head, holding her down as he yanks the knife from her flesh. Laurie  _ wails _ , and Nancy is certain he twisted his weapon a few times before pulling it out. 

“What are you still doing here?!” Though she is in pain, Laurie wasn’t about to let the young woman sacrifice herself when it was wholly unnecessary. One death in return for three people living? That was a fair trade-in Laurie’s books, and just as Nancy turned to run, a voice either survivor hadn’t heard before distracted her.

“I won’t kill her if you talk with me, Miss Wheeler,” he says, his head tilted to the side curiously. “Just until the timer runs out. You can heal her and you have my word that she gets out safely.”

Nancy scoffs. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“You know where the door is, but you haven’t left yet, now have you?”

Part of his words rang true, and she looked down sheepishly at the blonde who was laying on the ground, a look of pure disbelief on her face. 

“Fine. It isn’t like I could stop you anyway.” The bitterness she feels at how helpless she is is enough to make her stomach twist and turn, but she still kneels down and gets to work on shoddily patching up Laurie’s wound. 

“Maybe you couldn’t but your  _ boy toy certainly _ could,” That was a cheap shot if she ever heard one, and Nancy can’t help how red her face gets. She doesn’t say anything though, instead, she focuses on getting her friend out of here. “Too bad there can’t be two killers in one Trial, right _N_ _ance_?” 

The familiarity in which he used her nickname enraged her and her head snapped up. Her face was bright red and her lips were pulled over her teeth in a snarl. “ _ You _ don’t get to call me that,” she hisses and before she can get any more flustered, her carelessness causes Laurie to cry out in pain, and Nancy looks down, a string of apologies leaving her mouth.

“Tick tock, the time is running out…”

Despite his intentional button pushing, Nancy is able to return focus to the task at hand, and when Laurie is patched up, she offers her a weak smile as she helps the woman to her feet.

“This is a bad idea, you know that right?” Laurie says with a frown. Her hand reaches out to brush a strand of Nancy’s hair behind her ear. Of course, she had caught Frank’s words about there being  _ two _ killers in one Trial… And she tosses him a dirty look before turning tail and making a beeline for the exit gate. If Nancy wanted to stay behind, then that was her prerogative, she was a grown woman after all; capable of making her own decisions. 

“See?” Frank purrs. “I’m a man of my word.”

“So it seems.” Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and she narrows her eyes in distrust. “What do you want?”

“Hmm? Oh. Nothing much. Just to talk. I’m curious to know about the little wallflower that somehow interested our friendly neighbourhood stalker, Ghost Face.” He taps his chin with his knife as he says this, his head cocked quizzically. “He’s never been the most sociable person, even when he was getting his dick wet, but the  _ strangest  _ fuckin’ thing happened… And I mean, it was  _ strange _ . Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so frazzled before.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek and shifts back and forth on her feet. What was she supposed to say to that? If she acknowledged his words, then she would be confirming his suspicion, and her cover would be blown. Just what was she supposed to do if Frank decided to blackmail her? It was bad enough that Steve knew what she was doing…

“Ah come on, we both know you’re fuckin’ him, so there’s no need to act all innocent and ladylike. Ain’t nothing wrong with gettin’ a little killer side action though, y’know? This is a judgement-free zone.” 

Maybe it was judgement-free, but with the predatory manner that he moved closer to her, she couldn’t help the trickle of sweat that dripped down her face. Being at such close proximity with a killer that wasn’t Danny? She could honestly say she didn’t like it and her skin pricks with warning as his blade, the one that was covered in her friend's blood, inches its way up her torso, and she slaps his hand away roughly and takes a step back.

"You said you wanted to talk. That isn’t talking,” she says firmly, and Frank chuckles. She spoke her mind, he could work with that.

“That’s fair. Here, I’ll put it away.” He does exactly this, a gesture of peace. The red cracks that were splayed out over Glenvale deepened in colour, and he frowns. He should have killed the others when he had the chance because he didn’t appreciate the time limit on his conversation. He didn’t like to rush the finesse of things; that’s how one made clumsy and unnecessary mistakes. “You’ll have to forgive me though, there is something I need to see.”

His hand shoots out to grab the collar of her sweater, and he’s pulling Nancy tightly against him, his arm looping around her waist to hold her still. Bruised fingers pull at the fabric hiding her neck, and he is pleased to note just how discoloured the skin of her neck was. There was also a rough indent of teeth marks nestled along the flesh of her collarbone, and his brows raised in surprise.

“I didn’t think you’d be into rough handling,” he comments. “Not with how petite you are. One good smack to the ass and you’d disappear into the breeze… Or at least, that’s what I thought, but this proves me right fuckin’ wrong, now don't it?”

As Nancy recovers from the momentary shock of being touched, she reacts like a cornered animal. Her fists are balled up and she aims an uppercut to Frank’s jaw, and somehow it manages to connect. She feels his head snap upwards, and Nancy uses this surprise attack to push him away from her, and she turns and begins to run. The exit gate is in sight, she can make it! Or she could have made it… Until he used Feral Frenzy.

Frank barrels into her, forcing her to land face-first into the ground. She cries in pain as his blade wedges itself firmly into her shoulder blade, and he flips her around like a ragdoll, but not before he threads his fingers through her hair, pulls her head back, and bashes her face against the dust. The knife smoothly slides out of her body and he clambers on top of her, using his left hand to grab and pin her arms above her head.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” he pants, and Nancy can’t tell if it's from exertion or excitement. “I apologized before I did it, didn’t I? Now I have to hurt you.” 

She struggles violently against him, and the tears flow freely down her face when his other hand slides up her sweater, and his fingers experimentally flick over her nipple. A large part of her wants to beg him to stop, but her stubborn pride was keeping her silent, but she still gasps when her sweater is pulled over her head and her chest is exposed. The fabric around her head obscured her vision, but she was made immediately aware of the blade pressing against her sternum. 

“Stop fuckin’ moving. I’m not gonna kill you or anything. That would defeat the whole goddamn purpose of this, wouldn’t it?” He sounds mildly annoyed, but Nancy isn’t given time to focus on the tone of his voice, as a scream tears from her throat when he begins to drag the knife across her skin. “You’re gonna make this illegible, and then it's a waste of  _ both _ of our time.” 

She doesn’t stop her struggling, and Frank only increases pressure on her wrists as he draws thick lines across her chest. By the time he was done and sitting back to admire his handiwork, Nancy had gone still, her chest heaving as she tried to calm down. Her eyes had dried up, but when the leader of The Legion pulled her sweater back down her torso, he could see a burning hatred openly on display. Hmm… She looked quite beautiful like this.

“I think I understand what he sees in you.” he hums, running his thumb over her lower lip, and dragging the skin down slightly. “Shame that you pushed me to do this though. I figured our first intimate moment would have been more special than me holding you down and carving my  _ name _ into your skin.” 

He slowly releases her wrists and moves off of her. He rubs at the knees of his pants, brushing away the dirt that had accumulated on the fabric. “You’re free to go.” Motioning towards the exit gate with his knife, Frank watches as Nancy scrambles to get onto her feet. She wobbles slightly, her eyes narrowed as she observes him. 

“Now get going before I change my mind, Nance.”

And for once, Nancy listens, but the words he laughed out echoed through her ears as she vanished into the Fog.

“You might wanna stay away from Johnson for a while though, I don’t think he’d take too kindly to our affair!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gently throws frank into the mix and whispers: enjoy*

**Author's Note:**

> ignore how super uncreative my chapter titles are.
> 
> songspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ko1-DLazPRQ


End file.
